Silver Lining
by Miz Thang
Summary: Harmony was a vampire of habit, if nothing else. It was like she never learned from her mistakes, never realized that she was falling into a pattern. And that, of course, was entirely her fault, because she didn’t ever realize it.


**Title: **Silver Lining  
**Author:** Miz Thang  
**Characters/Pairing: **Harmony Kendall, HK/Spike  
**Rating:** FRM  
**Word Count:** 2215  
**Warnings:** Angst.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything but the little story's idea. Everything else belongs to who it belongs to.  
**Summary: **Harmony was a vampire of habit, if nothing else. It was like she never learned from her mistakes, never realized that she was falling into a pattern. And that, of course, was entirely her fault, because she didn't ever realize it. Written for jgracio (Spike/Harmony, Post NFA, one-shot, Rated R, I think).

_- things change and realizations come -_

Harmony was a vampire of habit, if nothing else. It was like she never learned from her mistakes, never realized that she was falling into a pattern. And that, of course, was entirely her fault, because she didn't ever realize it.

Two years after she betrayed Angel to Hamilton, Harmony had finally settled down in a very different Californian town – San Francisco. There was no particular reason behind it. She only went there because she could, because it was there, and a little because it was far from Los Angeles.

Two years after she left Los Angeles behind, only weeks after finding San Francisco, he walked into her life, following the pattern. She never noticed the pattern because, like she would be, she was so happy to see him again.

So, Harmony did as only would be expected of her. She let Spike stay; she did all she could for him, loved him, did anything he needed, anything he asked, wanted, desired. And all of this, the center of her life actually, lasted for only a year. One wonderful year of her having him in her life and at her every turn (because let's face it; being feminist and independent is all well and good until you realize that it hurts to live without that person you love).

He was the silver lining to her dark clouds. He was her one and only bright side in life. And he left her to be alone. Again. Without warning.

She'd spent weeks attempting to find him, hoping that he'd come back. She spent so much time concentrating on his whereabouts that she knew nothing else, couldn't do anything else.

So, she fell into a pit. Dark, worn, hurt, broken. And she didn't feel the need or desire to drag herself back up. She let herself drown in the misery and depression that was her life without Spike (you have one year when he treats you like you might actually matter to him and see what happens). He was the one person that she needed, the one person that she'd given the power over her mood, her happiness, to – and he wasn't even around. So what was the point?

Her life was listless. For two years, she did nothing. She spent her days crying and wanting him back, she spent her nights none too different. Quite pathetic, really. But then – keep a careful eye – the two years were up, and, as if nothing, he walked back into her life. Again. Following the pattern. And Harmony, who was so fucking glad to be out of her bad mood and joyous to have Spike back in her life again did as was expected (layman's terms: she spread her legs for him obediently and gave not one thought to where he'd been for two whole years, seven hundred thirty days of torture – or maybe she did and this was all under the surface of her mind).

And who would really be surprise if Harmony didn't realize that she was being abused? Harmony was simple, not stupid. She had Spike, she loved Spike, and Spike wasn't going anywhere for at least another year. So, who cared if he never told her he loved her? Who cared if he never did anything for her? Who cared if he called her names when he was angry and she let him? He was there and that was all that really mattered.

And it was wrong. It was very wrong. It was wrong that Harmony didn't notice the pattern. It was wrong that Spike treated her like crap. And it was definitely wrong that she allowed Spike to treat her that way. But who knew?

No one. No one knew. Spike kept Harmony all to himself. He liked to keep the smiles she gave, he liked to not tell or explain to anyone what in the name of all that was holy why he was with a soulless vampire, and he liked to keep her in the dark, literally and figuratively.

Harmony was owned, dominated and virtually destroyed, bringing a new girl in her place. And, yet, it didn't bother her. Why change things, if no one found anything wrong with it?

He left again. But that was no surprise. He was only following the pattern. The rumors she received from their demon friends were that he was in some country or another with Buffy the Slutty Layer (as Harmony had begun to affectionately call her). Well, either her or Droodzilla. It made her feel cheap and unimportant and walked on. She didn't know whether to hope it was one more than the other or to cry. She didn't like the feeling – she really didn't.

He came back again after two years. She'd had two years alone to think, to contemplate, to rant and rave, to cry, to fall apart and attempt to build herself back up however discombobulated. Yet she very nearly failed to do the last one. Instead she continued to do the others and missed him dearly until she found him in their kitchen one morning, having returned in the middle of the night.

And that – after a pattern that had continued throughout thirteen years (had it really been that long?), she finally caught up with it. She felt like an idiot, because she never saw it before. Because she'd let him. Because he was just as messed up as she was and she didn't realize she was being on of those able thingies – an enabler.

"Hi," she said when he looked up.

"Harm."

"You came back. For a moment, I thought you wouldn't." She continued, furthering herself into the room.

He stood. "I needed-"

"To think. I know. You always need to think." Harmony nervously stepped further more. "Could you _not_ go away to think anymore?"

"What's this supposed to be?" he asked, eyeing her warily. "An intervention or something?"

"No. I love you Spike." She replied. "I love you, and I'm stupid, because I don't want you to leave me, but I'm not Buffy or Drusilla; I'm just Harmony, so I'm not good enough. Is it really that hard to believe that I love you enough to be worried?"

There was a time when a person grew and realized that everything that they'd really cared about once before didn't matter anymore. Not any of those things – not the money, not the clothing, not the beauty. And why did none of those things matter? Because Harmony had really truly fallen in love. She'd realized that just having Spike with her made her truly happy. Because she needed him, wanted him, and couldn't live without him. And she realized that she needed to leave behind a bit of the old her in order to keep him.

So, Harmony had grown up. She'd lost some cheerfulness, and a bunch of things that made her materialistic. She lost some of her lust for life and found her silver lining once more. The only thing she needed or that mattered. Spike.

"I love you." Harmony continued. "And I worry. A lot."

She'd told him three times in the past three minutes, Spike noticed. He'd been used to her telling him, declaring it in a happy (rare as they were) moment, or in the middle of sex – maybe even right before she fell asleep. But this…this was different. This was change. And Spike had held on to one constant throughout the past decade and a half. And that was Harmony.

"I know, Harmony." He replied.

She let out a short laugh (where had the real Harmony gone?). "Really? Because I feel like I'm just someone for you to count on." She moved even closer. "I feel like I'm just convenient for you."

If ever there was a word to hit home for Spike, "convenient" was it. He forced himself to look at her head on, to acknowledge that yes, Harmony had changed – for better or worse who knew? But it was Spike's fault, all of it. She'd changed over the years to fit him, to be what he needed and hope that he wouldn't leave again. And it never worked for her, so she became a little darker to suit his needs.

"You're not convenient, Harm."

"Really? Then tell me…if I left and disappeared for two or three years, would I turn your world upside down? Would I ruin you?"

Harmony had dulled, he noticed. She'd become serious, more stern, a bit angsty, and more than a little dark. Her bright eyes glittered and her blonde hair was a halo as she stood just feet away from him, speaking the reality of their situation.

And what was it, really? The reality of the situation? Spike was…broken. And he was using Harmony. And Harmony was…broken. And she was letting Spike use her in any way she wished. But neither wanted it like that.

"Yes."

Harmony started and Spike reflected that she probably hadn't been expecting that for an answer. She'd probably been expecting him to dash all her notions with a flat out no.

"What?"

"I'd probably miss you – not that I know why, but – "

He never got the chance to finish his sentence. Harmony had control over his lips and mouth at that point.

Life continued. Peacefully. For a total of, count it, three years. Three years without the pattern. Harmony did what she did, being soulless, and Spike did what he had to, being with soul.

And it pissed Harmony off, rightly so, to deal with Fuffy and Droodzilla. The former showed up more than one latter, but both had the same effect. Harmony almost considered leaving. And then she'd had a talk with Spike. Well, it was more like there was a kiss and then less of a chance of talking before he asked Buffy to leave. For her. _For her_.

Of course, that couldn't last all that long. If it could, then they wouldn't be angsty. She wouldn't be tired of everything, and she wouldn't be alone, and she wouldn't be so damn unhappy if things lasted. Five more years had passed, giving them a total of eight in complete mundane normalcy, well, as close as two vampires could come to that. So, no, it couldn't last.

Harmony came home after a terrific night of killing and shopping (because some things you just didn't give up) to find a well-dressed man in her apartment. To correct herself, it wasn't just any well-dressed man; it was a well-dressed man she hadn't seen in nineteen years.

"Hamilton."

"No more Marky, or Hammie?" he questioned sardonically. "I underestimated you, Miss Kendall."

"I just grew up, thank you." Harmony said. Sarcasm was evidently a part of the new Harmony. "What are you doing here?"

"Wolfram and Hart want to make a deal with you, Harmony. All you need to do is tell me where Spike ran off to, and I'm gone."

"Ran off?" She echoed. "He went somewhere?"

Hamilton smiled, because she was sure he hadn't expected that in the development. "You didn't know? He's been running around and playing dodge with us for nearly two decades, Harmony. All of them. Killing our clients and trying to take down our branches one at a time."

Harmony's world started to slow, reaching an unbelievable near stop. She couldn't breathe suddenly (not that she needed to), and she really, _really_, couldn't think. "_What_?"

"I guess he's been leaving you out of the loop." Hamilton said. "I'll be leaving then."

"You do that." She mumbled. He brushed her arm on his way to the door, letting himself out.

Numbly, Harmony dropped into the arm chair she'd gotten specifically for Spike. "What?"

Spike was a part of some Resistance. With who didn't matter, though now Harmony was pretty sure she knew. They were some big regiment, working to piss Wolfram and Hart off. Maybe they wanted to win too. Well, she hoped Spike wanted to win. If he didn't win, he'd die. And that wasn't so much an option anymore.

And every three years, the cycle began. Spike would leave her for two and spend one in her company and in her bed before disappearing off again to do whatever the hell they did. And he probably almost died like dozens of times while she was moping, before coming back – she wouldn't forgive having Fluffy and Droodzy trailing behind him, though. Never.

And for eight years, she'd gotten him to opt out on the fun, because he'd stayed there, in their apartment, with her. For eight years, he didn't leave, to make her happy. Maybe he really did care about her.

She sat back in the armchair to think.

The cycle would restart, she knew, and she'd let it. Even if it killed her to do so. Spike cared about her and left her out of the loop to protect her (she hoped) and she'd let it go his way. She wouldn't complain, she wouldn't fuss, she wouldn't demand parts of himself he couldn't, or wasn't ready, to give. She'd sit, and wait, and be grateful that he even came back at all, because he could die and she'd never know.

After all, who'd think of telling the girl who pined after the guy she'd never fully have, calling him her only silver lining in her head?


End file.
